I am from the dense forest in the middle of Milwaukee,
and the wonder of tiny flowers in cracked sidewalks.
I am from the visiting Monarch showing off his elegance and vibrance,
  I gawked at his rarity as it fluttered past.
I am from the cherry tree, to eat the cherries forgotten by the birds,
while swaying in the wind with the trunk as thin as my hands.

I am from the sanctuary behind comforting lilac bushes,
and the mourning, bleeding heart buried behind his window.
I am from his room with the earth, moon, and stars on the wall,
  converted to a computer room.
I am from only a picture of a him playing the flute,
and a passing dream to remember him by.

I am from one lonely room filled with distractions,
and hiding in my own home.
I am from exiting nights and deep conversations,
turned to mind games and secrecy.
I am from a once great superhero,
and now witnessing her downfall.

I am from happiness and curiosity,
despair and sadness.